living in a jumping off point

One thing I loved about being down in Banderas Bay, Mexico, was that it was a nexus of adventurers. A stopping point for the Baja HaHa, it was also the biggest starting point for those ready to cross the Pacific. You were surrounded by people who were excited. People who had the nerves and luck to make it this far, and the will go even farther. Offshore sailors really make for a diverse, fun, and capable set of neighbors.

Soccer on the beach, La Cruz de Huanacaxtle.

In Mammoth it’s pretty much the same feeling. Everywhere you go there are people that are stoked to be here. They drove for hours. They saved up money. They took time off work. They got all their gear organized. They’ve been planning this for weeks, months, or maybe even years.

And now, they’re sitting in front of you as you’re buying a loaf of bread.

Today in Vons, bread isle, Mammoth Lakes.

And that type of energy is hard to underscore. It’s a reminder every day of the options at your disposal. It’s bright shiny people who in a few hours will be airborne flying off a snowy ridge, or looking down from the top of a mountain they just summitted.

More importantly, it’s a reminder every day of the things you’re not doing. Seeing people achieve and accomplish things chisels away at the long list of reasons that you tell yourself you can’t pull things off. You see people younger than you. Older than you. With more kids. With less money.

And there you are, buying your load of bread, having to answer the question (if you dare to ask it) about why you’re not the one with grocery cart full of supplies for a week in the backcountry.

So thanks to you, Mr. Climbing Rope in the Bread Isle Man on a Wednesday. Thanks for reminding me to take advantage of every second that this life will offer me.